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Max takes his team down the road and checks the explosives he set up. He comes back to us. “Somebody messed with my detonations,” he growls. “They were armed and set.”

“Nobody knows how to do that,” Alexander replies.

“Somebody obviously does.”

We cast anxious glances at each other. Is there a traitor in our midst? Or was there simply a technical glitch with Max’s explosives? At any rate, Alexander has turned out to be the hero of the day.

“You improvised,” Chris states, looking at him. “Nice work.”

Alexander shrugs, gruffly moving aside.

“So you set off those explosions, then?” I ask.

Alexander nods.

“Never hurts to be prepared.”

Huh. Chris was right. Alexander is a good soldier.

Weird, but good.

Two of the Omega trucks are still drivable, but the rest of us will have to go on foot to the rally point. Alexander’s team takes the trucks, and we’re left behind to experience all the joys of a hike in the foothills.

“Let’s cut cross country through the mountain pass,” Max says. “It’ll be faster.”

Chris nods. We follow the curve of the highway and hike uphill onto a dirt road, passing a couple of impressive rock formations. An iron fence has been smashed open and twisted. We jump over it and continue through the road, the bushes and trees looking eerie against the dark, cloudy sky.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” Sophia tells Max.

“Of course I do.” He points. “This is easier than climbing over the big hill. This just cuts right through it to the other side.”

“Right, right.”

As we wind our way deeper into the side of the hill, I notice little buildings.

“What’s all this?” I wonder.

“I don’t know,” Chris replies. “Keep your eyes open.”

We keep to our patrol formations, just like we practiced. Chris sends a scout to check out the area ahead, while Sophia and I bring up the rear of the group. We’re always watching. Always listening. Always alert.

If there’s one thing that’s just as dangerous as Omega, it’s nomads and vandals. They hide out in abandoned compounds or houses, living off the leftover food of the previous occupants. Based on my previous experience with desperate people wandering around the state, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better to avoid them if you can.

The buildings are spaced far apart in some places, and in other areas they’re close together. Chain link fences are nestled into the side of the hills. Trails weave between those fences. Trees and bushes are growing around the perimeter, and there are thick cables surrounding each chain link fence. They look like barriers.

“This is creepy,” Sophia says under her breath.

I have to agree.

“Let’s check it out,” somebody suggests.

“No. We need to get out of the area. Omega will be sending in backup to look for that missing convoy,” Chris replies.

“Hey, look!” I spot a small, brown wooden directory on the edge of the road. I head towards it, flipping out my commandeered Omega flashlight. I flick it on.

Project Survival’s Cat Haven

Beneath is a map of the entire compound; tiger cages, leopard cages, even a lion enclosure. Sophia is staring at it with wide eyes. “You don’t think any of those things are still here, do you?” she asks.

Chris raises an eyebrow.

“If they got out of their cages, it’s possible,” he answers. “Otherwise they’re probably dead if this place was evacuated after the EMP.”

I turn off the flashlight, my heart racing in my chest.

All I need is to come face to face with a starving panther to make this night even more exciting. I mean, come on. Chris takes my hand, sensing my unease, and we walk together away from the directory board.

“Maybe we should go around after all,” Max says. “Just in case.”

“What? Afraid of the little kitty cats?” Chris quips.

Little?” I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Tell that to the cat that uses your neck as a chew toy.”

He gives me a look. Chris tugs on my arm, his signal for me to keep my mouth shut, and keeps walking. I zip my lips and keep a tight grip on my rifle. Personally, I’d rather be holding Chris’s hand right now, but I’m a soldier these days…and how would that look? By the time we reach the other side of the mountain, I’m afraid to take a deep breath because of the noise it will make. Then again, if we are being hunted by a wild cat, there’s not a lot I can do about it. I’m dead.

“That was mildly terrifying,” I comment.

“Not too bad, actually,” Chris grins. “I’d say me and a big cat are evenly matched, wouldn’t you?”

“Egomaniac.”

We reach the trucks not too long afterwards. We throw our stuff into the back and drive into the night, retracing our path back to base. Everyone’s waiting for us when we return, including Derek’s team. He stayed behind to guard the camp and keep everybody in line while we were gone. With our militia getting bigger and bigger, more people have to be left behind to keep law and order around here.

Sophia and I take our stuff back to our tent and start messing around with it. I rip the Omega patch off the sleeve of the uniform from the dead trooper and replace it with a blue armband. I look over the gun and ammunition, checking our supplies. Even though we got our hands on a lot of stuff, it won’t be enough to last for long. The militia is growing every day. We need more weapons, more ammo, more food, more water and of course, more space.

All of these people bring lots of extra noise, so Chris is thinking about moving our basecamp farther into the mountains. There are pros and cons to that idea. On the plus side, we’ll have more freedom to practice training and indulge in little things like campfires because there won’t be as much of a chance that we’ll be spotted by enemies. On the negative side, we’ll be farther away from Omega hotspots, therefore conducting raids and ambushes will be a longer process because we’ll have to travel farther. Long-range patrols could keep us in the loop about Omega activities while the rest of our forces pull back deeper into the mountains.

In the end, I think safety will win over distance. But there’s always the option of breaking down our forces into smaller camps. I’m not too crazy about that idea, though. I’d prefer to keep our militia together.

“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” Sophia asks me, picking at her commandeered uniform.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re actually killing people, Cassidy,” she replies, looking up. Her lower lip is trembling. “Are we doing the right thing?”

I fold my hands in the center of my lap.

“It’s kill or be killed. Nothing’s like it used to be,” I say slowly, picturing the dead and dying on the battlefield. “It’s not like we have a choice.”

“But why are we doing it?”

“Who else is going to? It’s our duty to protect our home.” I sigh. “It’s just the way things are. If we don’t fight back, Omega will kill us all. Especially now that we’ve been attacking them. We’re playing offense and defense. They’ve been murdering and enslaving people left and right. We can’t get caught up in our emotions. Either we put up a fight or we let them eat us alive. It’s simple.”

Sophia takes a deep breath.

“But what if this is all for nothing?” she says. “What if we do all of this fighting and sacrificing and Omega still wins? Because if they’re really a huge army with help from places like Russia or China or whatever, we’re kind of screwed, aren’t we? When we were at the labor camp, they were having us harvest food for something big. You said they were getting ready to bring in more troops.” She looks me straight in the eye. “And then Mrs. Young said the big cities have been attacked with chemical weapons, and the rumors about a nuclear bomb on the east coast may or may not be true. How do we stand a chance against an army with that kind of power?”